


It's Oh So Quiet

by Elphen



Series: An Omega's Place [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baby Hamish Watson-Holmes, Begging, Demanding Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock Holmes, Kitchen Sex, Knotting, Loving John Watson, Loving Sherlock, M/M, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Omega pregnancy, Pheromones, Possessive John, Praise Kink, Pregnant Sex, Reassuring John, Scents & Smells, Self-Lubrication, Sex Standing Up, Silence, Smut, Supportive John, did I forget some tags?, fiances, slick, slightly rough sex, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elphen/pseuds/Elphen
Summary: Sherlock is pregnant with John's child and still takes care of Hamish, among other things.Hamish, however, is currently a light sleeper and difficult to get to sleep. So, when John surprises Sherlock with the idea of a bit of fun, they have to be quiet in order to keep him asleep.If only Sherlock wasn't quite vocal during sex and John just a little bit devious.Not a full-on sequel, just a short thing set in the same universe after the first story.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: An Omega's Place [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587115
Comments: 37
Kudos: 212





	It's Oh So Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!  
> I wanted to get one last thing out this year, one finished thing, and I found this halfway done, so I finished it. I'll let you decide whether it was worth it.  
> It's set after the events of the first story but they're not married yet. Saving that for if I ever write a proper sequel.

It was quiet in the house, which was a relatively new and very welcome development for the evening. Just twenty minutes previous, a cacophony of very vocal protest had echoed through the building, fuelled and aided by tiredness, stubbornness and pure contrariness.

Hamish Holmes Watson had recently developed an intense dislike for going to bed. Not for sleeping itself, as his tendency to sleep through the night if left undisturbed, and sometimes be drowsy for long after he was woken, attested to. Nor for some of the trappings of going to bed, such as scent-cuddling and bedtime reading. But the moment he was expected to lay down and actually _sleep_ , he started to kick up a fuss, and it took considerable time and effort to actually get him to sleep.

Some days were better than others, of course, and while today hadn’t been horrible in terms of time spent, the sheer volume of the protest had been more than a little draining for him. It had been a mercy he hadn’t resorted to hitting and kicking this time.

Now, though…now he was sleeping like the proverbial angel, no trace that he’d ever been recalcitrant, and Sherlock was taking the opportunity to get a few items, which couldn’t go in the dishwasher without them breaking, clean. It was as monotonous work as ever and he was never exactly keen on it, but it needed doing if he wanted to use it again tomorrow.

At least, he also had something to think about other than the mundanities of everyday life with a toddler now.

John had not only proposed to him that day, he’d promised him that they’d get Sherlock into a university. Sherlock had claimed that he didn’t need some degree to know that he had value, to which the Alpha had snorted and said that he knew that already.

It was meant as something for Sherlock to do, regardless of whether or not he ended up using it for anything. Of course, that wasn’t to mean that he didn’t want the Omega to go or that it was just something to keep him occupied and docile. If he wanted to, John would be fully behind him getting a job, one that he found fulfilling.

Sherlock had asked whether he’d really be fine with it, considering that he still had Hamish to look after as well as the new life that had been growing inside of him ever since their bonding Heat. John had smiled and said that of course he was. They’d work out a way to handle it.

Regardless of whether it’d actually end up with some sort of job, Sherlock could say that he appreciated having something to occupy his mind with, too, even when performing chores, as well as reading through the books he’d purchased for the course – with his own money, which he’d _earned_ as a nurturer, rather than having been given them by John.

Of course, in a sense he had still been given them by John, seeing as he paid his wages, but it was still money that he’d earned rather than been given by the Alpha outright, as a gift or compensation or whatever else it was traditionally termed, and the Omega could easily admit to himself that he was grateful for it.

In his small bubble of quietude and concentration on matters mostly inside the confines of his mind, he wasn’t as alert as he perhaps ought to have been, and certainly normally would be.

That was at least to blame for why he didn’t hear John until he was only a few steps away, and even then, he didn’t react until arms slid around his waist. His by now slightly curved stomach, all the more pronounced by the otherwise continued slimness of his body.

“Hello,” John murmured as he drew himself close, coming to rest his chin lightly on the somewhat bony shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late tonight. Had a good day?”

Sherlock hummed and leaned back into the body behind him. “Not bad, although he decided that clothes were for peasants and spent every moment where he could see his chance to, to get them off.”

“Again?” John sighed. “They say it’s normal for that age, but I don’t know. But that’s only an answer to half the question. How was _your_ day?”

Sherlock stopped what he was doing and turned a little around in the embrace, mostly so he could give his Alpha a kiss.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said when they parted, lips quirking in the hint of a smirk. He got a blink and then a small grin for his efforts.

“Seriously, though?” John asked after a few moments had passed.

“Seriously, yes. It’s been good.” Sherlock turned back around to his task. He wanted to get this done before he went to bed. Before they went to bed.

One hand slid down to caress his stomach ever so gently.

“I’m still not far along for you to feel any kicks. I’m barely at the stage where I can feel any flutters.”

“I know that. I did qualify as a doctor, you know.”

The continuation that ran ‘and I’ve had one pregnant mate before this’ was left unsaid, even if Sherlock heard it, nevertheless. He couldn’t help swallowing.

Probably sensing that he’d inadvertently brought up something that was…not exactly a sore point for the Omega but certainly a point that he felt unaccustomedly guilty about, John nuzzled into his neck again, deliberately over the skin where his bond bite, though healed, was still starkly evident.

“I don’t love either of you less because I love the other,” he whispered, softly, warmly. “I will always love her but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, too, just as much, or that you’re a mere replacement for her.”

Sherlock tried to relax. “I know that.”

“Do you?” There was a slight commanding challenge in the tone, because this wasn’t new territory for them to go over. “I’m not always so sure.”

“I do, John. I just...she was your _wife_.”

“And you’re going to be my husband. I’m not being unfaithful to her or whatever else you’ve managed to cook up in that enormous brain of yours by being with you.”

When Sherlock didn’t reply to that, John paused for a moment, presumably to think. After a few long moments, he then spoke again, though what came out wasn’t what the brunet would’ve expected.

“You know something? If she’d been alive when you were hired – no, we’d have needed a nurturer, regardless, so don’t even start. If she had, she’d be the one to propose. Well, the first, anyway.”

Sherlock’s head practically whipped around at that, the shock and disbelief written plainly on his face. Then his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need placating like that, John.” Though more than a little irate at that idea, he kept his voice low, as they had throughout their conversation, so as not to risk waking Hamish up.

“That’s good, because I wasn’t attempting any. Mary would’ve adored you, love, as do I, so though I know that’s not quite how it works, at least know that there’s no reason for you to feel guilty.”

He sought and managed to capture cupid bow lips again, kissing him softly yet meaningfully somehow.

When he pulled away, he planted a kiss behind Sherlock’s ear.

“I love you,” he whispered into said ear.

“I love you,” he murmured into skin as he kissed the nape of the brunet’s neck.

“I love you,” he sighed into the kiss planted where the shirt began. Then he began to gently suck at the place he’d just kissed.

Sherlock should’ve said something. Returned the sentiment would’ve been a good one, for instance. But as he spoke, John’s hands had pulled out the end of Sherlock’s shirt and then slid the hands up over the curve of his belly, featherlight and gentle, he was somewhat distracted.

He never would’ve credited it before, but he couldn’t deny that his stomach had become far more sensitive than it had ever been before, not long after he’d fallen pregnant. It didn’t always work but more often than not, John touching it, especially as he was now, was enough to send a spike of joy and pleasure through him.

Though he knew John would never do it, he strongly suspected that it’d be enough to distract him from an argument. Especially if it escalated as his pregnancy progressed, which seemed highly likely.

One hand kept moving across the expanse of the curve as the other came up to deftly open the buttons on the brunet’s shirt, revealing pale skin slowly but surely, each newly revealed patch being caressed as it was exposed. Meanwhile, the lips kept up a continuous alternation of kisses, sucks and licks, distracting Sherlock further.

“John…” he said, and it came out with an accompanying small moan.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” John whispered when the last shirt button was undone. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want to do it.”

“That’s…hardly a fair question,” Sherlock managed to get out, “to ask me at this…this point. Ah!”

The exclamation was caused by the tweak of a nipple. It had not yet grown as it would later in pregnancy, where it would be both bigger and darker, to help the little one latch on and suckle. Not as easily as with a female Omega, nor would his chest swell up much beyond what the milk ducts and their glandular tissue caused as they filled with milk, but it would still be noticeable when the time came, and something which often served to entice the Alpha.

Regardless of not having reached that stage yet, both of his nipples had become about as sensitive as his stomach had, possibly even more so. John had noticed this rather earlier and while he didn’t abuse it, he wasn’t above employing touches to it when he wanted to bring Sherlock pleasure.

Okay, so he didn’t normally abuse it.

Even though he seemed to realise it himself and therefore removed his hands, it wasn’t actually much of an improvement, and it had certainly biased Sherlock in favour of complying.

Nevertheless, he tried to hold out. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, not genuinely. It had actually been a little bit since they’d had time to indulge and he thoroughly enjoyed whenever either of them initiated something sexual.

Those were normally in their bedroom, though, as well as a considerable time after Hamish had fallen asleep. This was because, to Sherlock’s embarrassment and annoyance and John’s delight, the Omega had trouble keeping quiet during sex. Of course, the Alpha could make him – they’d both seen just how obedient the Omega could be when it was demanded of him – but as John didn’t particularly enjoy doing that, especially not when instincts weren’t pulling at him, but delighted in the sounds he was given, that hadn’t happened since their first time together.

Not that John didn’t take charge at all. He did, he just didn’t see why that had to entail strict commands, which likely also brought forth memories of his time as an officer. Not something he’d liked to be reminded of.

So, Sherlock was allowed to be as vocal as he pleased, which was sometimes what he couldn’t suppress.

Which, again, wasn’t normally that much of a problem, since Hamish tended to be a heavy sleeper and sleep through the night when he was finally deeply asleep. Getting there, though, he was much more sensitive, and Sherlock didn’t want him to wake up after finally getting him to acquiesce to go to sleep.

His cock was of a different opinion, however, half-erect and taking an interest, as was his hole, which he could feel fluttering.

John could, if nothing else, smell that.

That he could guess the reason for the hesitation was made clear when he leaned close to whisper.

“I know this is cheating a bit, but I can find you something that’ll muffle the sounds, if you want,” he offered.

“A bit?” Though John couldn’t see his face clearly, the raised eyebrow was somehow audible in the tone of voice.

“Okay, quite a lot,” the blond conceded, sounding genuinely contrite. “I just...bugger. I’m sorry. You’re right. Just because I’m horny doesn’t make it okay for me to jump you the first chance I get and especially not to not take no for an answer.”

Sherlock turned his head, which had faced the sink and dropped a little as his hands had gripped the edge of the countertop before then, to look at John. “But I wasn’t saying no, was I?”

“You weren’t saying yes, either, which is the far more important point.”

 _If you’re going to go into all of that,_ Sherlock couldn’t help thinking, _then you’re tackling a far bigger issue than us here right now. That dubious consent, or even lack thereof, goes hand-in-hand with the nature of Heats and the pheromones produced there, and it isn’t as though either of us has always been able to rise above that. Then again, this isn’t a Heat. I’m capable of saying no, if I want to._

That wasn’t to say that the consideration was unappreciated, because it most certainly was.

“No, and you’re right.” He reached behind him, somehow managed to locate and grab one of John’s hands and brought it back to his exposed belly, pressing it into flesh as he flattened his hand on top of it.

“But what if I’m saying yes now?” he whispered, pushing his belly into said hand while with his own hand making sure it couldn’t move. He got a bitten-back moan for his effort, which only spurred him on. “John, please. I’ll be quiet. I want it. Want _you_.”

He pushed his arse backwards and it quickly made contact with the growing bulge in the Alpha’s trousers.

John groaned, trying to do so quietly. His free hand moved up to squeeze a nipple again but only for a moment. Then he pulled both of his hands free. He didn’t divest the Omega of his shirt, though.

Instead, they went to Sherlock’s belt, deftly unbuckling it before they moved onto the button and the zipper. Once the trousers were open, he slid his hands inside, pausing a moment to caress the hips before he started to push them down, slowly, along with the underwear underneath.

Sherlock tried to turn around so he could reciprocate, or at least get a snog out of it, which would help him to keep quiet. Only, John kept hold of his hips. Not hard enough that he couldn’t break free if he didn’t want it but hard enough to get the message across without saying anything that he didn’t want him to move.

Sherlock obliged. He shifted his weight and changed his stance a little for a better grounding. Which turned out to be just as well, because once the trousers were down to his knees, John dropped into a kneeling position all at once and leaned forward to bite at one creamy, rounded globe.

“Nngh!” The Omega struggled not to swear loudly or otherwise let out a loud noise. That was not what he’d expected.

He could feel John smiling against his cheek before he then kissed the surface, almost apologetically. Then he kept on planting kisses, much like he’d done earlier on Sherlock’s neck.

Meanwhile, his hands slid the underwear and trouser further down then slid ever so slowly back up the way they’d come, up over hipbones and up to the underside of the growing belly, completely bypassing the Omega’s groin, which only served to make the neglected cock twitch towards the unreceived touch and his entrance to flutter again, a small trickle of slick beginning to escape. The entrance itself felt much wetter but outside Heat, his body seemed oddly reluctant to let go of any of it if it could help it.

When the slick could be smelled in the air between them, he got another bite to his butt, a little firmer than before, and it vibrated as John also tried to muffle his own moan. Unfortunately, the vibrations were not exactly helping Sherlock himself keep his composure.

The kisses to his backside had seemed relatively random in their placement across both cheeks but it seemed that in actuality, John had been moving towards the centre. Pressing forward, he managed to plant a kiss directly at the furled little hole, the tip of his tongue peeking out to lap up the slick that had escaped.

How Sherlock didn’t shoot up into the air at that or keen loudly, at the very least, he had no idea. The softness and lightness of the touch to that sensitive part of him, especially in combination with the warm sting of the bite and the vibrations of the moan, sent shuddering waves of pleasure radiating through his entire body and he had to tighten his hold on the countertop significantly.

When did he become that sensitive? Granted, it wasn’t as though he had ever not been sensitive, but it felt far more so than he remembered it being. Not that he was complaining. Well, not apart from the twin fear of this not lasting that long because of that sensitivity and not being able to keep quiet as he’d promised.

The thought that he’d wake Hamish up if he was and would then have to spend another hour or more getting him back to sleep, though, helped him to suppress the noise he made so that it was almost completely nasal breath.

He couldn’t help whispering his bond mate’s name when he pulled back a little.

“I love it when your body can’t help but produce slick for me,” John whispered back, audible in the silence, “even outside Heat. Especially so when it’s trying so hard to keep it in and it still trickles out.”

“John…!” Sherlock whispered again, a moan in his voice.

“I’ve got you,” John said, his voice soft and encouraging.

He then slid his hands back over hips and down to cup a buttock in each hand, kneading them for a moment as he hummed a pleased noise before he drew them apart, slowly, baring the puckered, fluttering opening to his eyes, another small trickle of translucent slick escaping as he watched.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated. Then he leaned forward again and licked at the slick that had escaped, licked over the opening in the process.

Sherlock’s knuckles went white in their grip on the counter as he choked on a gasp. Then the tongue started to lap at the skin but all the way around the opening without delving in, which left Sherlock trembling a little as he tried not to press into the contact.

“More,” he whispered. “John, please, more. Don’t tease, please.”

The Alpha didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he obliged by pushing the tip of his tongue forward again, against the opening and then into it, swirling it around slowly as he at the same time pushed it deeper. That wasn’t quick, either, but then, it didn’t need to be. In fact, that he was going that slowly only served to send more sensations through him and sensitise what wasn’t sensitive already.

When eventually, it couldn’t go any further, it just as slowly pulled back, applying a bit of a stabbing motion as it did.

Sherlock was breathing hard by the time the tongue left, leaving him not only feeling empty in a way he hadn’t before it had entered but also far wetter than before and nothing to do with the wetness of the tongue.

Always, no matter the circumstances, John could get him slick and panting with barely an effort. The consolation was that when it was done intentionally, he almost never failed to follow through with it. Only when others interrupted them did he stop before time, and even then, it was mostly Hamish.

However much he loved the kid, the Omega could admit to sending a curse or two his way, even if it was mollified slightly by the tyke wanting Sherlock as often as his father.

Another consolation was that John seemed to be just as affected, as evidenced by the increase in Alpha scent that wafted through the air into Sherlock’s nostrils.

_Keep it together. You need to be quiet. You can do that, can’t you?_

Yes. Yes, of course, but…oh, why did John have to push at all the buttons right then? Or why hadn’t he suggested they go into the bedroom for this?

Because it’s closer to Hamish’s room than this is and be honest, you want this. Right here, right now.

Oh, he did. He –

His train of thought was cut short when two fingers entered him without prior warning. They didn’t shove in but they slid in so easily and consequently so fast that it felt like that. Sherlock’s internal muscles immediately clamped down on them, their mass and their unexpectedness the cause.

John didn’t stop at that or pull out. He instead pressed a kiss to the top of the swell of the brunet’s buttocks, while his fingers scissored gently inside, swirling around as they did so to coax the muscles to relax back up again.

It didn’t take much for them to do so but the process, which didn’t stop after they had, left Sherlock pushing back into the movement, trying to be encouraging while keeping silent.

John allowed it but didn’t otherwise oblige, content to let the other fuck himself as best he could on his fingers as he added a third. He did crook them occasionally, grazing them against a prostate, which sent Sherlock up on his toes as he bit into his bottom lip hard to keep from shouting. Small moans seeped through now, though, no matter what he tried to contain them.

A sudden change in angle signalled that John had gotten to his feet again but the movement of the fingers didn’t stop, not for a moment, even as their movements grew in strength and length.

“Could fuck you just like this,” John whispered into his ear, his voice so low that it was only because of his proximity that Sherlock could hear him. “Keep going with my fingers until your body rebels. You’re so wet and hard already, keyed up just from my fingers and the effort to keep quiet. I bet if I just add a little bit more, you’ll come right up against the counter. Will you be able to keep quiet, then? As you spasm around my fingers, pushing at them and pulling them in at the same time as you try in vain to milk them? Or will you scream for me, unable to keep it all in anymore?”

Sherlock wanted to argue. Wanted to say that he didn’t want that. He wanted John inside of him, pounding into him until only the counters were keeping him upright, filling up the emptiness he himself had created.

What came out was a small keen and a ‘please’, which came out rather begging, a little desperately so.

The fingers withdrew, which wasn’t what he’d wanted at all. At least, not without something more substantial taking their place.

“Please,” he said again. “You can’t leave me like – ”

He cut himself off as the fingers which had been in his arse wrapped around his shaft, the slick they were coated in leaving no doubt it was them. It also eased the way as well as mingled the scent of slick with that of Sherlock’s pre-come. It was an unexpectedly heady mixture.

“John…!” It came out without his control and rather loud, at that.

They both stiffened but after a few long moments, there still wasn’t any sound to indicate that Hamish had woken.

John pulled away a little at that, letting go of the Omega. Sherlock squeezed his already closed eyes further shut in frustration, thinking that he’d blown it somehow.

But John was right, he was so empty, and he wouldn’t need that much to tip him over. Perhaps it’d be enough if he could just reach back and insert his own fingers. The angle was awkward, he knew that from previous masturbation sessions, even more so standing up but his fingers were longer than the Alpha’s, they might just about do the trick.

It wasn’t as though he’d need much at this point.

Biting his lip even harder than before to make sure he was quiet now, he reached back towards his still leaking entrance.

Only to be stopped by a hand gripping his wrist.

“I didn’t say you could do it yourself, now did I?” Despite the words and the slight growl in the voice, John didn’t sound angry with him for trying to find some release on his own. Commanding, yes, and slightly reprimanding but not enough so that guilt crept into the Omega’s mind.

John still didn’t reinsert his fingers, though. He just stood there, or so it seemed to Sherlock.

Suppressing a whine, the brunet rocked on his heels, trying to find something to push back against while also trying to find some way to get some friction on his cock.

Neither worked, which left a starting-to-become-angry Sherlock.

“John, _please_ ,” he whispered, the anger seeping through even through his lowered voice as he turned his head to look at the other over his shoulder. “Don’t bloody well leave me hanging like this. You started this and if you’re not going to finish it, at least let me do it myself. I feel so achingly empty it’s making my head spin. Feels like Heat. I need _something_ filling me up so bleeding bad I’d be willing to try just about anything – the handle of the egg whisk, for one!”

It was an exaggeration but not nearly as much of one as might be expected – there were definitely elements of Heat in there, something he would wonder at later – and if it was for a good cause, wasn’t it okay?

He watched John’s pupils, which were already dilated, blow wide at that.

Not that he got much of a chance to enjoy that small triumph, because next thing he knew, his hips were grabbed, fingers digging in and more or less hauled backwards. Back into the Alpha’s groin, where a hot length slid right between his buttocks and pressed up against his aching entrance.

“You’re not having anything inside of you that isn’t me,” John growled, low in his throat but with strength for all that.

They could have that discussion another time. Right now, the statement made Sherlock’s cock throb and his entrance spasm _hard_ again. Fuck, but he never thought he’d be one to respond to something so basic. It worked, though. By god, did it _work._

“Then give it to me!” he hissed, just about managing to be mindful of the sleeping child close by and it was as much a demand as it was a plead. “Please, John, I can’t wait any longer. I need you!”

The hands on his hips shifted, though they didn’t loosen, and shifted him so that when the Alpha’s hips pulled back and pushed forward again, the angle was right for him to slip inside. John obviously made sure of that.

And once he’d started, he didn’t stop, sliding all the way to the hilt in one go, keeping his hands firmly on bony hips so that he was still in charge of the speed.

Sherlock would’ve minded that but honestly, he was far more preoccupied with the fact that he was finally getting what he wanted. What he felt like he needed.

It felt different than it had the last time they’d done it and not just because they were both standing this time. By all logic it shouldn’t, as he couldn’t have grown that much, but nevertheless, there was definitely a sensation that things were tighter than they had been.

John must feel it, too, because he let out a prolonged and deepfelt groan as he slid in, muffling it against Sherlock’s still shirt-covered shoulder. One hand moved from the Omega’s hip up to splay out against the underside of his belly, rubbing ever so gently against it.

“John…” It was a breath more than anything.

“My beautiful Sherlock,” John murmured, nosing against the nape of the other’s neck. He’d stilled the moment he was fully settled, though Sherlock didn’t mind…for the moment. “How do you want this?”

“Any way I can get.”

He could feel the smile against his skin. “Well, then, let’s see if we can make up for making you wait, eh?”

With one hand still on Sherlock’s hip, John pulled back until only the head remained inside and pushed in again, keeping the same steady movement from before as he withdrew and thrust once more.

What it lacked in speed it made up for in steady strength. Not outright forcefulness, in the sense of aggressiveness, which was normally the way for Alphas, but power. Power and stamina to keep going for as long as was necessary.

There was something about the slowness, too, that appealed to Sherlock. He got to experience each slide inside and the equal slide out to its full extent and he could give himself over to the sensations that sparked, even if he also felt a yearning for harder and faster.

It helped, though, that the hand on his stomach didn’t disappear and in fact caressed across the expanse, the sensitivity of the skin sending additional shivers through him. He pressed into the touch, too, wishing that he had something better to grab onto than the edge of the sink. It only helped a little that it was a porcelain one rather than a metal.

Then, just when he thought he’d gotten a handle on how this was all going to go, John did something. Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure what but suddenly, he was deeper inside, almost too deep, or so it initially felt, as he pushed the thinner body upwards, using the support of the counters to help him.

It pushed the Omega up onto the balls of his feet somewhat. Not enough that he had no leverage at all – after that first time, they’d talked and agreed that such things were…something to be agreed upon – but just enough that he was almost ramrod-straight, which in turn shifted the angle of the cock inside of him. Possibly that was why it felt deeper.

It also pushed against that little bundle of nerves with more of a constancy and pushed the brunet’s aching cock against the coolness of the Belfast sink.

All in all, it was a wonder that Sherlock only shouted, unable to help himself despite all his very best efforts, his hands scrabbling for better purchase.

The moment he did, he stiffened in realisation, listening for any noise that signalled Hamish had woken.

At the same time, some tiny part of him flinched in anticipation of what the Alpha would do. Of course, this was really John’s fault but that wasn’t necessarily how it worked. The rest of Sherlock knew that it wasn’t how it worked but he couldn’t entirely squash that fear. Instincts were…rather a mixed bag, to say the least.

What John ended up doing was to bring his hand up, the one that had been caressing the underside of the burgeoning belly. For a brief moment, it looked as though he was going to clamp it over the Omega’s mouth. Instead, however, he let it hover in front of Sherlock’s face.

A kiss was placed on the back of a long neck.

“I should’ve thought of something to help with that before we started, love, I’m sorry,” John whispered against the skin he’d just kissed.

“You aren’t responsible for the fact that I can’t keep quiet,” Sherlock whispered in reply, though he didn’t turn his head this time.

“As I’m the one who’s the cause, yeah, actually, I am. So, here.” He waved the hand he’d held out a little.

To be discussing this when he could still feel the length inside him press up against his prostate was absurd, to say the least. “John, you can’t actually be suggesting what it sounds like – “

“Yes, I am. Go on. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine that you want me use your hand as a, a baby chew toy!” Sherlock hissed, glaring at the Alpha out of the corner of his eye. “I’m going to bite through it!”

He felt the dick twitch hard at that and had to fight to suppress the noise that threatened to burst forth at that. God, he wasn’t going to last long if this kept up.

“Lucky for us, then, that I do know how to treat bites. I did wash them before I came in, if that’s what you’re – “

Sherlock shut him up by closing his mouth carefully around the proffered hand. Not biting it, just enveloping it and maybe, just maybe giving the palm of it a gentle little lick, almost a kitten lick, while he was at it. Nothing wrong with that, was there?

A cut-off sentence and a quick, sharpish intake of breath was his reward. At least the silver medal.

The gold medal was John nipping at his scent gland and then saying, in a cross between a growl and a purr that was somehow still very low, “Such a good boy, Sherlock. Such a brilliant Omega, strong and clever.”

With that, he started to thrust again and if they had lacked speed before, they started to make up for it now – while retaining most of the power from previously.

The result was an Omega who was being pushed hard against the counters and the sink he was leaning against repeatedly, his hands scrabbling for purchase on something more substantial, one that could hold provide a proper hold for him.

He found it in the overhead cupboards. More specifically, their handles, which he could hook his hands into. Meanwhile, his cock was pressing against the porcelain of the sink again and again, the remaining slick on it not quite enough to compensate for the friction of the porcelain. If he could hold on with one hand, he could –

The hand on his hip slid down to his hole for a moment, fingers dipping into the excess slick that had been pushed out by the movement, then slid forward again and grabbed his dick. Not to jerk it off, it seemed, but to act as a barrier against the sink, the size of it perfect for that purpose. That it also provided something for Sherlock to thrust, in as much as he decided that at the moment, into was…oh, good lord, yes, more. More of that.

Fuck.

It was just as well that he’d found something like the cupboard handles; despite the increased speed, John managed to keep to the angle he’d found when he’d brought the Omega up onto the balls of his feet, sacrificing length of thrust for speed just a little.

Not that Sherlock minded. The cock inside him filled him up just as he’d been aching for earlier, thrust going harder and faster without him having to say anything. The fact that they were both standing and Sherlock’s stance wasn’t exactly wide, due to his trousers and all, provided some extra thrill and the hand around his cock was just about tight enough of a ring to provide the right kind of friction to send his knees to buckling – not that they were exactly steady as it was – without immediately sending him toppling over the edge.

Add to that the brushes against his sensitive stomach and the air against his aching nipples and it was only a wonder that Sherlock had yet to bite through the hand in his mouth, with so much he needed to stifle one way or the other.

That said, he couldn’t deny that there was also a thrill to it, needing to be as quiet as possible, whatever means that had to take. The fact that he had John’s hand this close or in other words, having a source of scent, his Alpha’s scent, that close to his nose for a longer period of time, not to mention during sex, didn’t lessen it.

In fact, he was quite surprised he hadn’t yet come all over that hand or gushed around the erection slamming into him over and over.

When John then started to whisper the gentlest of praises over and over again – ranging from ones about his pregnancy and his appearance to his cleverness and compassion, interspersed with small declarations of ‘mine’ but also ‘yours’ from the blond – punctuating them with kisses, nips and licks to the brunet’s back, regardless of whether it was covered or bare, it was all Sherlock could do to hold on, mentally and emotionally more than anything, though it also brought him right to the edge.

He wasn’t shouting at that point or even keening. Instead, he was panting and mewling, just hanging on, letting the praise wash over him, warm in a way that had nothing to do with the heat generated between them.

One final thrust, hard and long as the Alpha plastered himself to the taller man’s back, mouthing over hard but not biting down on the scent gland, matching the spot where his teeth had made indents months before. The knot couldn’t fully expand outside Heat, but it made a valiant effort as semen shot deep inside the Omega’s passage, which spasmed and clenched in response.

The onslaught of sensations proved too much for the poor Sherlock. His own release blasted through him with a force he wasn’t prepared for and he made a noise somewhere between a keen and a moan.

It was only faintly audible due to the fact that he had actually bitten down on the hand in his mouth the moment his release battered through him.

His hands lost their grip on the, rather abused and in need of some TLC, handles and he sagged, only the body pressed against him from behind holding him even a modicum of upright.

John stayed where he was, right up against his bond mate, though he did ease his hand from the admittedly rather slack hold of the Omega’s teeth and release his grip on the softening penis in his other hand. With his hands now free, he slipped out of the still twitching entrance and wrapped both arms around Sherlock, offering him support as they both came down from the high of climax.

When his world no longer consisted of white noise and pleasure black, Sherlock’s first thought was to listen. Not just for any noise whatsoever, because surely, they couldn’t actually have been quiet enough for that to have succeeded, but for sounds of distress. Something to denote that Hamish was in pain or otherwise in distress and would require Sherlock’s immediate attention.

Part of him, and it was a part larger than he might’ve imagined, felt guilty that he’d spent his time so blind and deaf to anything but his own pleasure.

Just think of what could have happened to him in the time where Sherlock had been as base and, and _selfish_ as that!

His heart and throat constricted suddenly and he was breathing erratically for an entirely different reason.

A hand, the one that had been around his prick but seemed to have been wiped off beforehand, ran through his sweat-dampened hair and across his cheek in a soothing gesture while a humming hush issued from the Alpha’s throat.

He didn’t want to listen because what if he had missed something? What if he had, in that brief instant, failed his child and –

“Listen,” John murmured right next to his ear. “I know, it’s not easy, but listen. He’s fine.”

But the fact that there was no noise could be something worrying, too. In fact, it could be even worse, considering that –

He was hauled backwards suddenly. Not hard enough that he fell or anything, but he did stumble a little, not helped by the fact that he still had his trousers somewhat on.

John bent and pulled them up but didn’t close them. His own were left where they were as he dragged the Omega down to the room in which their little boy were.

Sound asleep, as it turned out, on his back, arms and legs trying to take up as much space as they could. His mouth was open, and the pacifier had fallen out, his covers kicked off, though that was on general principle the moment he fell asleep.

All in all, he looked as he always did once he finally lost the battle with sleep. Just like he should.

John, who’d been standing behind Sherlock while he inspected the bed, wrapped an arm around his bond mate and pulled him close.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice quiet. It gave the impression that the quietness had nothing to do with their current location.

“No need to thank me when I begged you to – “

“Not that,” John interrupted. “For being so concerned for him. Genuinely so.”

“You know that I am. I always have been, regardless of…what I’ve been to him.”

“Honestly,” John said, after a small pause for thought, “I think that he’s always seen you as his mum.”

Sherlock’s heart did something complicated and painful, but not entirely unpleasant, in his chest and he snorted to cover it up. “Hardly. He’ll know that my scent isn’t – “

“I wasn’t talking about scent markers and all of that, idiot, and you know it. There are other factors at play here.”

The blond paused, looked up at the still doubtful, to say the least, expression on the other’s face and sighed.

However, then he smiled, which confused Sherlock, who frowned.

“I’m not going to argue with you, love, because I have a much better idea.”

“And that is?”

“That you argue with him. I know who I’ll put my money on with that bet.”

The blond grabbed a hand and tugged at the Omega. “Come on, now. I need a shower so do you and then I’m thinking I have a fiancé that needs some cuddling and general spoiling.”

That still wasn’t something Sherlock was used to.

“Your hand needs seeing to, first of all,” he said, to deflect and cope.

“Yeah, I was sort of hoping you could help with that before the shower.”

“Were you now?”

“I was.”

They closed the door behind them, quietly.

Not that it made much difference to Hamish, who’d drifted up to half-asleep, for no other reason than that sometimes happens to even the best of us. But he was sinking back down with the scents of his two most favourite people in the world, warm and fresh and…mixed together in a way that they normally didn’t get but that he found he liked, in his nostrils.

He couldn’t imagine a better scent in the world – and he could imagine dragons taking tea with the ginger briefcase-wielding fairy knight.

**Author's Note:**

> I know a bit of world building and continuation snuck its way into the smut. Then again, that might be what saves the smut, who knows? Not me.  
> I'm sorry if it shows it's been a bit since I wrote the first story. I have tried. I did look up risks of pregnant sex and it should be fine. :)
> 
> Feedback is as always loved and cherished if the criticism remains constructive.


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